Paying the Piper
by fee-kh
Summary: Dean's yearis up and it is time to settle his debts.


Disclaimer: I lay no claim to Supernatural. That honour goes to the CW, although I sometimes wonder if they know what they have, judging by the things I have been hearing.

A/N: Okay it has to be said that I have never written for Supernatural before and I barely know the series. I got the first season for my birthday, best present ever, and whisked my way through the episodes. Can't wait for two now. What a shocker of an ending. However, being an internet kinda gal I do know some things that are coming down the line, as in Dean and the pact at the crossroads. And as I was watching Salvation, I had an epiphany. This story that is coming popped into my head fully formed, beginning, middle and end. I sat down this afternoon and wrote it out by hand in under two hours. And now here it is.

I beg your indulgence if our two boys are out of character, like I said I have only managed to watch this once. It is my first fic for the show. Well this show alone at least. I just hope it makes sense.

And I am not above begging. I love reviews. I adore reviews. Live for them even. Just call me a review-sucker. Please indulge my addiction.

So without further ado, here goes:

**Paying the Piper**

One year ago today Dean Winchester made a pact at the crossroads. His soul for his brother's life. It was a deal he considered worth it.

Eight months ago today Dean told his brother for the first time to leave it alone, let him be, enjoy his remaining time together. And then listened to Sam's ranting and raving for the next week before his little brother lapsed into aggrieved silence.

Seven months ago today Sam grudgingly began to accept Dean's decision, worn out after a month of screaming. His anger and frustration blunted in the face of Dean's placid acceptance of his chosen fate.

Six months ago today Sam found out why people liked to accompany their loved ones in their last days. You had time for all the things missed before. Could say goodbye. Clear the air. Work your way through grief so that when the time came you could be supportive. Not that he had to like it.

Five months ago today Dean asked for a roadtrip. An odd request in the light of the travelling they did in their formative years. He wanted to see America however, all the things they usually raced past on their way from demon A to ghost B. They went hiking and ended up fighting off a naga. Went swimming in Lake Minnetonka and fought off a water elf that seemed intent on keeping Dean with her in her underwater home. Battled a demonic jackalope infestation in Nevada on their way to the Rockies. Had a spat with Bigfoot on the Appalachian trail.

Two months ago today Sam realised it would never be enough. They couldn't cram a lifetimes worth of sights and experiences into one short year. And so they headed west, slowly this time. Rediscovering what connected them as brothers, what had been there before Sam snuck off to college and Dean was left along with a broken man struggling to be a father.

One month ago today they finally settled somewhere. They'd bought a tent at one point. Dean had wanted to experience hiking minus the wendigo. Pitched their tent on the western side of the Grand Canyon.

One day ago Dean told Sam his last wish. Sam should go back to college, make something of himself. Be true to the Winchester name. Again Sam had railed and wept, but it was a half-hearted performance at best and time was too precious to waste on tears. And in the end how could he refuse his brother who had given up his very life for him. So he could live.

And now the day had come. It seemed to Sam like he had only blinked and their time was up. One year. Twelve months. 365 days. Gone in a flash. It wasn't enough. Could never be enough. His brother was 29 years old. Too young to die and yet here they were, waiting for Dean to be fetched to an eternity in hell.

They sat there, feet dangling over the edge of the precipice, watching the sun paint the canyon every shade of red you could possibly imagine. Heart-wrenchingly beautiful.

"It's worth it." Dean said quietly, taking a sip from the bottle of beer in his hand.

"What is?"

Dean shrugged. "The whole deal. Knowing you are safe. This is what big brothers do. What I promised Mom I would do. Keep you safe."

Sam had nothing to say to that, no arguments to convince his brother he was worth more than he thought, no time left to do anything.

"How long do we have?"

Dean shrugged. "Don't know." He looked over his shoulder at the sun, now half-gone under the horizon.

"When the sun's gone completely I suppose."

"It's time." The voice was a multitude, sinuous whispers undulating against each other to form sounds, echoing dark and cloyingly wet.

"Or not." Dean finished, more composed than Sam wished to see him.

Despite himself, despite Dean's clearly and loudly proclaimed wishes, Sam scrambled for his feet, scrabbling for a weapon that wasn't there.

The demon laughed, a sucking gurgle that made Sam's stomach turn. "You think you can stop me? Puny human. I am the lord of the crossroads and I will take what is mine and drag him through hell itself."

It waved a deformed hand and the pained roar of millions filled the air behind them.

The canyon was gone and in its place hell itself. The fires of damnation had opened at their feet, a Dantesque nightmare, tier upon tier of sorrow and agony. Sinners laid out for torture through the ages. And amongst them stood the demons, yellow eyes blazing with unholy fire, fingers flexing at the thought that they would finally get their claws into the man who had cost them so much.

"No!" Sam's cry was strangled. "No! Dean, don't do this." Tears ran down his face. "It's not worth it. I'm not worth it."

Dean's face hardened. "Shut up, Sam!" His eyes burned with unspoken emotion. "I say if it is worth it or not. My choice!"

He swallowed, fear clogging every pore, hands shaking as he restlessly turned the ring on his right hand.

The crossroads demon grinned from ear to ear. "You are ours. We will rend your flesh from your bones and suck the jelly from your eyes for eternity. You will rue the day he was born and when we are done with you, you shall curse his name to the heavens. And none shall hear you, forever forsaken."

Dean shuddered, then pulled Sam in for a short, hard hug, trying to convey a lifetime of care and love in a single gesture.

"Take care of yourself, Sam." And he took his first step to damnation.

"Stop!" The voice was firm and strong, filled with light.

Sam and Dean turned as one, then fell to their knees, blinded by the apparition that had appeared behind them, the sun a glare that made their eyes water.

"Who dares?" The demon hissed, even as it shrank back slightly.

"He was mine before he was ever yours." The voice was deep, mellifluous, filling the brothers with a sense of safety.

"Liar!" The demon snarled, his claws flexing as it he wished to snatch Dean away. Behind them the multitude howled their agreement.

The apparition smiled grimly. "I never lie. You know that."

He lifted a finger and now it was Dean's voice from two years before that filled the void.

"I swear to God, I will march into hell myself and I will slaughter every single one of you bitches so help me God."

"He is mine."

The demon screamed in anger. "Semantics! He sold his soul to me in exchange for his brother's life."

"He can not sell what was not his to give."

"Then I shall take the brother." His claws closed over Sam's arm, burning his skin, dripping venom.

The apparition laughed, a joyful sound. "He is not yours to take either. The contract was made in good faith. You have lost, now leave." He flicked his hand once more and then demon was pulled back into the abyss as if yanked.

"Come Dean Winchester." The apparition stepped forward to the edge of hell, staring down at the demons that even now fell over each other in their race for the world, to overrun them.

As if in trance Dean stood and walked to stand with their saviour, Sam stumbling confused in his wake.

"Dean! Stop. What are you doing?"

His brother simply ignored him as if he wasn't there.

"You swore yourself to me, Dean Winchester. Do you hold your oath?" It was clear that Dean didn't have to answer with an affirmative, they could just get up and leave, but then again he hadn't been raised that way and Sam knew it. Dean only hesitated for a moment.

"I stand by my oath."

The apparition smiled once more and twisted one hand in a complicated movement by his side. A sword appeared. A sword with a blade of fire. A fire so hot it burned white at the centre.

"Then you shall need this." He handed the sword of fire to Dean. It was longer than his legs, heat coming off it in waves and yet to him it appeared no heavier than a toothpick.

Without a backward glance at his incredulous brother, Dean walked forwards, hands tightening around the sword's grip, clothes melting away to be replaced with a shimmering armour, glowing with a light of its own. An unearthly glimmer surrounded him as he launched himself over the edge and into hell itself.

"Dean!" Sam screamed in fright, moving to run after his brother, only to come up short when a hand landed on his shoulder.

"This is not your fight, Samuel Winchester."

"He's my brother." Sam raged in response. "His fights are mine."

"A noble sentiment, Noble, but has cause much pain and anger over the millennia. And it was not always so for you." The apparition - Sam could just not bring himself to call it God - smiled. A sad smile that had seen the worst humanity could throw at each other and still love.

"You must bear witness."

Sam shuddered, eyes glued to the shining figure that was his brother against the inky darkness that was the enemy.

"You must bear witness of the sacrifice willingly given, the choice freely made. For the champion can not."

At those words Sam collapsed in on himself, heart squeezing in his chest. He could not look away, would not look away.

An eternity went by in a moment as Dean fought the multitude, sword blazing with divine fire, cutting through the ranks like a scythe. And Sam watched. Watched and bore witness.

It went on forever and yet was over in an instant. The first star twinkled in the sky and hell vanished in a flash of light, the apparition going with it.

And as the final ray of sunlight flashed green from the horizon, Dean's body dropped at Sam's feet. Bloodied, wounded, dirty, but alive. Above all alive.

With a strangled sob, Sam dropped to his knees beside his brother, pulling him over on his side, checking to see how bad the situation was.

Dean coughed, wincing with pain, eyes trying to focus on Sam in vain. He wet his lips, his voice a dry croak as if he had been screaming for days.

"What happened? Thought I was hellbound."

Sam laughed almost hysterically, nerves too close to the surface.

"Sam! What happened. There was the demon and then… and then…" He trailed off in confusion.

Sam swallowed, relief thick in his throat. "Divine intervention, Dean. We had divine intervention."

Dean licked his lips. "Right, that's okay then. Help me up."

Minutes later silence reigned once more as full darkness fell once more over the Grand Canyon, the heat of the sun and something else slowly radiating from the ancient stones.


End file.
